Dust, Job Applications,
and New Settings

In case you haven't noticed, my mom gave us really weird names. She was an author, so she took the naming thing very seriously. I think names can be a blessing or a curse, it all depends on the bearer of the name and not on the giver of the name. However, it's been hard for me to claim that my name is, in fact, a blessing.  Maybe, I'm in the process of re-signifying my name.

Anyway, she chose all weather-related names for us. My brother is Raiden—she went easy on him if you ask me. His name means 'God of lightning and thunder.' Cool, huh? My little sister, Dawn; her name means rebirth or new beginnings. It's simply beautiful.

And then, there's me, Sunset. I'm the dead of the day. The end—literally. Don't let me get started on my second name.

"M-my name is..."

So that's why I am a stammering mess, particularly now that fifteen people are expecting me to introduce myself before explaining to them the procedure behind the plate I've just prepared.

"Ss-- S, Sunset." I gulp. "And this..." I grab the sides of my plate, displaying it to everyone. "And this's basically a warm salad with a bed of roasted slices of pumpkin and..."

We've moved to Toronto a couple of weeks ago. My brother attends the University of Toronto, and this year I was supposed to join him.

Also, my dad was offered a job nearby and after the death of my mum, we just needed a fresh start. So, all the pieces were coming together here.

Oh! By the way, I just finished delivering a five-minute explanation of my plate, and the chef is still munching—not swallowing. That's never a good sign.

Pressing a napkin against his base, he deposits the contents of his mouth in it, throwing it into the bin.

"It was better than last time," the chef says, after gulping down a whole glass of water. "But you need to work on the seasoning, Sunset."

Camille and Stuart mumble something to each other, cupping their mouths as they cackle about me. They're my french mates from the cooking course I'm attending, and they always find a way to make me feel bad.

"I'll get there. Thank you," I tell him, fighting back the tears.

I'm paying to learn. I don't know why I feel bad about being corrected. Or maybe I just can't stand public criticism or the reaction of silly human beings like Stuart and Camille. My anxiety clearly doesn't help. Everything is so heightened and dramatic to me.

The feeling still weighs me down as I take the bus to university. I'm supposed to meet Raiden there. Why do I obsess over such silly, little things? The bus speeds up, gliding over the streets of Toronto. The buildings blur away from my sight as I press my forehead against the hard, cold window. A tangled, mess of thoughts boils in my head—in constant repetition.

Stepping off the bus, I walk to the parking lot. It's easy for me to find Raiden's car because we came together in the morning. He's a really cool brother, I really shouldn't complain. He's twenty, and I am only two years younger than him, so we're practically friends. When he came here, we were so far away from each other that we just drifted apart. Also, the accident didn't help. It's like we don't know how to talk to each other anymore.

So, it feels like we can start over and I'm happy about that. We came to his university together, but then, even though I can drive, I took the bus to my cooking course. Oh, I'm supposed to be studying at university with him, not taking a cooking course, but let's not talk about that yet.

Leaning my back against his black, shiny car, my eyes squint toward the noon sun,  absorbing every bit of it. The Campus doors open, and the crowd escapes the suffocating academic world. I shield my eyes from the sun and try to spot him in the crowd.

"Excuse me, you need a ride or something?" A male voice asks, forcing me to turn my head in the opposite direction.

Turning around, I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. My hazelnut eyes meet other eyes of some color I'm not able to define right now. Whatever the blend is, they contrast beautifully with his brown hair all tousled towards his right eye.

"So?" he asks, both impatiently and amused. But I don't reply, my eyes are trained on the worn pencil he has tucked above his left ear. He clears his throat, bringing me back from my trance.

"Umm... I'm just waiting for someone," I reply, dismissing him. I turn my eyes searching for my brother but I still don't see him.

The guy gets closer to me, so close I can smell the leather in his black jacket, and see the sketches of some kind of machinery peeping out of a blue, flat folder he has under his arm.

What does he want!? I thought he had left already.

Now he is right in front of me. I adjust my hair knot, and then I cross my arms—for protection, I guess.

He rolls his lips inwards and I see the ghost of a smile flashing on his face.

"I'm sure you can wait for him somewhere else," he rasps. Something deep and alluring makes his tone of voice so peaceful.

I swallow the lump in my throat. This guy is already triggering my anxiety—or maybe it's just something else.

"Why would I? This is his car," I state as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He frowns, sighing heavily.

"No way," he breathes, clutching his forehead with his right hand. "I can't believe it! He did it again, didn't he?"

Before I can ask for clarification, I hear my brother calling me from afar.

The guy in front of me places his hand on the car next to my face, partially caging me against my brother's car, and then leans in on me.  A small burst of air escapes my lips, and I feel like no air will ever enter my system again. 

"He told you to meet me here, right?" he whispers to my left ear. What is this guy talking about?

My brother is only a couple of meters away from me now and relief washes over me.

"So, this is your idea of a blind date?" He shouts in my brother's direction, but his hand remains there, caging me against my brother's car, or whoever's car this is. 

What?

I see Raiden jogging the rest of the way toward us.

"Lukah," he wheezes. "This is my younger sister, Sunset. Please, keep your distance." His eyes practically pleading, and his hand spread on his chest, trying to control his erratic breathing.

Automatically, this Lukah dude takes three steps away from me.

"Sorry, Raiden." He puts his hands up in defense. "She was here, waiting for someone by my car, I thought she was-" He runs his hands through his hair.

I look behind me, then past Lukah, and I notice the same car as my brother's.

Oh, God.

"Where's your car?" I ask my brother.

He presses the alarm button, and sure enough, a sound announcing the unlocking of my brother's car is heard right opposite me.

I make a point of dodging Lukah and make my way to my brother's identical car.

Once both of us are inside it, we drive home.

The air seems palpable. He is, now and then looking at me from the corner of his eye. First, he sighs. He looks like he wants to tell me something, as his knuckles go white around the steering wheel. But, he remains quiet for the rest of the drive. 

Frowning, I peer through the car window. My brother parked the car in this cozy street in Toronto with lots of vintage coffee shops and bars. 

"I want to show you this place. You'll love it," he says while getting off the car.

The sun starts sinking beyond the buildings and we approach this one coffee shop. Why are sunsets so early in the North? Ugh. I wish the day was longer, not today in particular, but days in general. My eyes adjust to the sight as fading sun rays finally hide behind the coffee shop.  Right above the canopy roof of the entrance to the coffee shop, there is a banner that reads 'StarDust Café.'

It looks cute. My brother knew I would love this place.

Before entering, right next to the door I spot a small poster.

- Available Open Position-

Dust Library

Guild of Writers United requires a young, responsible human being

Jobs to be done:

❇ Book categorization

❇ Curation of books

❇ Supervision

❇ Key keeper

❇Book caretaker

Generous Payment

Interviews until 5:30 PM

In the basement

Huh...another joke, right?

My brows furrow, re-reading the poster to see if I read everything correctly. Before I can finish reading for the second time, my brother is gently opening the door for me to enter, so I go in.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee crawls up my nostrils, making me love the place even more. A few people stand in a line, waiting to get orders. The place has a perfectly messy arrangement. The floor has several levels, and the tables are all mismatching in size and shape.

The centerpieces are piles of three or four books, and you can find different things on top of them. Cacti, snow globes, vases, and random small sculptures.

While Raiden is ordering something for us, I decide to ask someone from the shop about the job application.

"Yes, the lady sitting behind that bookshelf might give you information," a young man from behind the counter informs me.

I stride towards the bookshelf and behind it, I find a very old-fashioned lady. She's wearing a long, heavy dress that looks rather itchy. Judging from the wrinkles on her face, and the gray tousled hair, she must be in her sixties. A long, electric blue feather sticks out from the large capeline that is tilted to a side over her head.

She looks very much like a character from a book, though I don't know which one yet. She's busy writing something so she hasn't noticed me so far.

"Good afternoon, my name is Sunset Williams, I was told I could talk to you about the job application for the library?"

The lady looks up at me—startled. Her eyes peer above her big glasses, which are almost at the tip of her nose.

"Well, I am very glad that some young people still read things, even if it is a poster on a wall." She smiles tightly, her dimples showing.

I smile back. I'm kind of regretting this already. Maybe I should just turn around and leave.

"Well today we are already close, but why don't you come to see the place tomorrow at 5 PM?"

"Oh, okay," I mumble. "Where's the place again?"

She points at a rather small door right across from where she is sitting. There is a rusty, old banner above it.

"Dust Library?" I read out loud, squinting my eyes to make sure I understand the words below the dust. The banner, ironically, is covered in dust.

"See you tomorrow, young lady." She nods her head at me and busies herself writing. I take that as a farewell, and I leave to go back to my brother. That wasn't so bad, I can do this.

As I spot Raiden waiting for our orders, I go in search of a table for us. I end up finding the perfect spot for us, right next to a canopy-shaped, vintage window. A small coffee table lays before me, a snow globe with an open book inside of it. I wish these things were for sale, I think as I shake the globe awakening the snow inside.

Raiden finally arrives holding two lovely cups.

"So...nothing sparks conversation more than hot chocolate, right?" Raiden asks and takes a sit in front of me.

Grey swirls emerge from both of our cups, reaching my nostrils with its warm, milky scent.

And we talk about almost everything: my cooking course, we laugh at Jason's break-up scene, we discuss plans for the following day, and I even mention the job application.

I feel like I could beat my anxiety now that I am in a new setting.